


i'd never want once from the cherry tree (my baby's sweet as can be)

by xerampelinae



Series: a god big enough to hold your love [3]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Mythology, Gods and Monsters, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Playing fast and loose with mythology, playing fast and loose with canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-20
Updated: 2018-10-20
Packaged: 2019-08-04 16:38:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,563
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16350278
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xerampelinae/pseuds/xerampelinae
Summary: “You found me,” the Second God sighs in Keith’s voice, half the steady, awed love of one who knows they are yearned for in parting, half the fear and wonder of one who knows that they may not always be found but have.“Always, Beloved,” the First God says in Shiro’s voice. An arm of starshadow forms--a temporary replacement for the living metal arm until an adherent of the Fourth God can forge something new--and cradles Keith’s jaw, guides it close once more. They kiss deep and sweet as honey, ever-hungry for it.-The Cosmic Rites come again.





	i'd never want once from the cherry tree (my baby's sweet as can be)

"My lord, it’s time again,” the Second God says in reverent undertone. It’s a moonless night lit only by starshine undiminished by firelight. Winter will turn soon, from deepening night to restless, blooming spring.

“So it is, Beloved,” the First God says, cradling soft cheek with broad, strong hand. The Second God leans into the touch, humming like the crackle of a fire on a winter’s night, in a hearth or laid carefully in the wilds. “What will you choose for this coming year?”

“Only to be at your side as long as you will have me,” the Second God whispers.

-

Shiro looks up as Keith makes his approach easily through the underbrush in the early morning light. They are healing--both of them--and are close enough to hale these days that the others have begun to forget their worries. “Shiro,” he murmurs. “It’s time.”

“I had hoped it hadn’t been so long,” Shiro admits. “To be away from you for so long.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Keith says, with a shake of his head. “You’re here now, that’s what matters.” 

When the others join them for the midday meal, Shiro makes the announcement. “Keith and I have something to take care of. We’ll leave soon; we should be back around this time tomorrow, but we may be a little later.”

“What are you--” Lance says.

“We’ll be back by the morning meal two days from now at the latest,” Keith interjects. “Don’t worry until then.”

“Are you sure?” Pidge asks, exchanging a puzzled glance with Hunk. Allura is frowning and distant, as she has been since the revelation of Keith’s parentage.

“We’ll be fine,” Shiro says with a grin that brooks no further questions.

-

Before the Three came the First and Second Gods. In the empty void they came together and formed the first star, which called forth life in its wake. The Second God lingered to nurture the nascent earth that sprang forth; the First God went forth through the void to call further life. In their separation the First God hung more stars through the night sky to mark out tokens of his love until their reunion.

“We have been closer this year than we often are,” the First God muses, voice layered with fondness. “How many days are you willing to spend at my side?”

“As many as I can,” the Second God says.

-

“I’ll see you soon,” Shiro promises. His hand slides slowly out of Keith’s, his smile wry and encouraging.

“Don’t be too long,” Keith says, forcing himself not to watch, and kneels to purify himself in the waters of the underground stream.

 

-

 _He will be everything, small flame,_ the First God whispered once when Keith had fled the stifling, crowded beds of the orphanage. _Of you, of me._

Half-dreaming under the star-strewn expanse, Keith murmurs. “Will I stay with--you?”

 _He is of me,_ the First God whispers with gentle amusement. _When you are ready to leave this place, he will come._

“For forever?” Keith murmurs, heart twisting at the thought of leaving behind the village, the temple his father had cared for with his own hands. The courtyard and walls his father had laid out and repaired with bare hand and watching child.

 _No, small flame,_ the First God says. _This land forgets but it is mine. My temples are your own. You are always welcome._

Keith slips under the sweet veil of sleep before he can make his thanks. The First God takes no offense for a child’s action.

-

A hand catches at Keith’s in the darkness, footsteps silent across the rough-hewn cavern floor. When he looks back, he sees that the gold in his eyes is reflected back, and lets himself be towed back into the cradle of strong arms. He turns his head to accept the kiss without prompting, feels it feed the flame rising up from his heart.

“You found me,” the Second God sighs in Keith’s voice, half the steady, awed love of one who knows they are yearned for in parting, half the fear and wonder of one who knows that they may not always be found but have.

“Always, Beloved,” the First God says in Shiro’s voice. An arm of starshadow forms--a temporary replacement for the living metal arm until an adherent of the Fourth God can forge something new--and cradles Keith’s jaw, guides it close once more. They kiss deep and sweet as honey, ever-hungry for it.

“Come lay with me, my lord,” the Second God whispers, and is borne gently down.

-

Sometimes, when Shiro is further than an arm’s span from him, Keith falls back into the desolation of the lonely year, the fear that he is not close enough to save, that he has failed in a way that cannot be taken back. It resonates even more strongly now, with the Second God’s presence burning brighter in his chest and lighting his eyes gold as his feet easily trace a path that promises reunion and renewal.

He has had Shiro’s company every day since they found each other again; their gods do not have even that. This is the tragedy of the stars that none of the stories explain.

One promised day out of a year, and with well-chosen paladins, however many hours and days can be stolen with their aid. Paladins chosen only for the year’s ritual tend to have their own families. Paladins chosen to serve out the span of their lives do not.

Sometimes Shiro looks at Keith with a strange fondness, ruefully knowing that even the choice to live side by side to the end of their days has seen them separated, and then found a way back together even still. He looks at him knowing he has spilled blood for his sake and fought deathless monsters, has walked unknown paths and honored their shared gods for him; he looks at him knowing his devotion.

Shiro _looks_ at him, Keith knows, and the only thing that makes bearable how _known_ he is lies in reciprocality and trust. Everything Shiro sees he returns in equal measure.

 _You are the truest reflection of me,_ the Second God whispers with crackling voice of legion of flame.

-

“Do you love me?” the First God asks, voice like the distant song of stars spinning through the void.

“I do, I do,” the Second God gasps, curling borrowed hands around broad shoulders. “I love you--”

“And I, you,” the First God rumbles, pressing mouth to throat as if to taste the words as they pass.

-

“It’s the beginning of a new year,” Pidge notes at the fire raised to prepare the morning meal.

“Really?” Hunk says, stirring a pot. “I thought--”

“--The new year started months ago,” Lance says. “What’s going on with your head, Pidge?”

“The lunar new year,” Pidge says, frowning.

Shiro and Keith make their approach to the fire, broad-shoulders brushing as their strides keep them abreast of one another, even with Keith limping.

“Are you okay?” Hunk asks, eying them even as he serves up their meals. Shiro moves forward to take the bowls, solicitous enough that it’s easy to think that maybe there’d been a fight, but one that had been dealt with and there was only some soreness or minor injury that had been treated but Shiro felt guilt for, even if it wasn’t his fault or was something that was within parameters Keith found acceptable.

“Fine,” Keith says, when it becomes obvious that the question is directed to him. And it’s true: he and Shiro look relaxed, almost glowing with a limb-slackening relief. Shiro sits beside Keith--as usual--but nuzzles close to his face until Keith returns it as a kiss, then stays pressed almost as close--less usual. With the quietness of their public affection, there’s little wonder it took so long for the Paladins to learn of Keith and Shiro.

Pidge idly plays with her oracle bones, tossing them up and down to read in her palm as the others stare. “Ah,” she says. “I thought so.”

“Is ‘I thought so’ short for ‘I know why Keith and Shiro are acting weird?’” Lance asks.

“It was the Cosmic Rites,” Shiro says, rocking Keith closer into his arms. For his own part, Keith merely sighs with contentment and settles closer. A rare picture of equal parts satisfaction and exhaustion, which--Keith has some of the best endurance among the Paladins. Basking cat-like in the sun and Shiro’s warmth.

“So,” Hunk says. “What does that mean?”

“The Cosmic Rites are different for them,” the Oracle says as she joins them at the fire. “They might not be quite themselves for a short while.”

“Does that mean that they were possessed or had a spell cast on them by the witch?” Lance gasps and summons his bayard, bow form activating as he scans the clearing. The others’ hands twitch to their bayards but leave them uncalled.

“No, Lance,” the Oracle says. “Only that they may be carrying more of their gods than they normally do, and that it can affect their behavior.”

“Our gods are lions,” Hunk says.

“And _their_ gods are married,” Pidge says.

“So why is Keith limping?” Lance asks.

Coran coughs. The Oracle covers her mouth in an uncharacteristic display of shock. Keith and Shiro say nothing.

“You’ll find out when you’re older,” Pidge says.

**Author's Note:**

> Title from Hozier's "Work Song" (it really is one of my favorite songs by him).  
> The Black Lion's love language is saying "I love you" star by star until the night sky is filled and being a service top.   
> Some thoughts: I've been writing since 2006 and I still sometimes struggle with tenses (but that's what editing's for). I have been writing a lot of sad stuff so trying to switch gears away from that, ergo this. My recent au ideas range from Evangelion to The Crow so...working on the Eva one and avoiding thinking about the other one.  
> I'm over on tumblr as xerampelinaekiss.


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